


Downpour

by dollylux



Series: Born to Run [5]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Child Neglect, M/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nando's outside in the rain when Davey gets home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downpour

**Author's Note:**

> (Childhood story; occurs before the events written in Born to Run.)

David had come home that night and the skies had opened up as soon as he'd climbed in his truck to go home, drowning his world with heavy, ominous rain. The roads were flooding with muddy water and he had to drive slow, his nearly bald tires no match for the anger of the rain. When he'd pulled into the driveway at the house, the first thing he had noticed was a dark shadow on the front porch. He'd sat in his truck for a moment, teeth gritted, tired body tense as he considered who it could be and whether or not he should bring his gun in with him.

His work boots had landed in the muddy gravel with a sickening squelch and he made himself an intimidating figure as he neared the porch, his hands in fists by the time he got to it.

"Hey," he growled, his tone edged with danger and irritation, three feet back from the curled up body but he was ready to bolt and ready to fight, whichever this would require. When the body moved weakly he relaxed momentarily, just long enough to crouch down and get a better look. He'd gasped the second he saw that familiar color of hair, the color that was on top of his own head, that honey in the sunshine that belonged to him and his Nando and no one else in the world.

"Oh, chickpea, what are you doing out here?" He'd tried to keep the fear from his voice, to keep the tremble from his hand as it peeled back the soaking wet blanket around Nando's shoulders. Nando had stirred then, lifting his arms as quickly as he could to wrap them around David's neck, begging for his warmth and strength and David had just barely caught sight of Nando's busted lip. He had lifted his eyes to the house itself for the first time since he'd gotten out of the truck, glaring in at the blue flickering window, at the thought of his father and his violent hands and his thrashing voice and his determination, his back-breaking determination to torture Nando's spirit one day at a time.

"He said I got home too late but I was tryin', Davey. It looked like it was gonna rain so I hurried on home. I ran as fast as I could but it didn't matter cause he just... he just..." Nando had trailed off like he always did when he got to the part where he got the shit beat out of him, he stuttered and whimpered and shook his way through it because those memories don't have words for them, those sensations and thoughts and feelings don't have words, or at least not in Nando's vocabulary. They are far beyond mere words. They deaden his heart and make him numb from the center of his bones to his tender skin and he can't even bring himself to think about it, not here, not in the safety of these arms, not when Davey was there to make him feel okay. "...And... and he threwed me out here in the rain and he made me stay out in the driveway. He watched me from the window to make sure I didn't come up on the porch but he finally passed out. I heard him. So I came up here and... and..."

David's chest had tightened painfully as he pulled Nando up on his body, hugging him there with a sort of resolution, determined to make Nando stop trying to defend him and just let him break down, wanting to get it out of the way now so they could collapse together later. It had become a ritual for them over the years, their own knotted-up, handmade religion. Nando's first sob against David's chest had rattled them both and David lifted Nando up off the porch, his eyes on the door as he backed down the steps, not stopping until he bumped into his truck and he'd been trying so hard to cover Nando from the rain, to keep him from getting any wetter, trying at the same time to make him stop sobbing.

David's drive back to Iker's farm had been much more grim than the drive to his own house but much warmer. He'd taken Nando up to the loft of the barn first thing, holding onto him as best as he could as he climbed the rickety ladder. He disappeared again, whispering promises of just five minutes and he'd stayed true to his word, returning with a tupperware container of hot soup and a big spoon, a bottle of water and an armload of blankets and towels.

Nando is sitting up now, shivering violently but he pays it no mind because David is back and his eyes are on him, watching him set about his tasks like a man with the most important job in the world, the way he lights the lantern they kept up here, the way he moves all the comic books to one side, the way he gathers the two pillows to one side so he can spread out one blanket to make them a thin, stiff bed, a sorry excuse for a bed but the way he smoothes his tired, worn hands over the blanket, straightening out wrinkles and turning the edges of it until they're right makes the bed beautiful, makes it perfect and look inviting and David's warmth makes this place feel like a room, makes it feel like theirs, more so than the light or the blankets or the warm promise of soup.

"Here, let's--" David starts, his voice a low whisper but it stops immediately because Nando is on him, is wrapping his arms around David and pulling him down to their bed, pressing up against him and they're both trembling with the cold of a chilly October night and the drench of rain down the layers of their clothes and skin. David tries to laugh but Nando is shaking even more now, fighting against his clothes but the presence of David's hands on him soothe him immediately and it's all in the care he takes with him, the way his fingers become as tender as possible as they run up the bones of Nando's ribs and push his shirt off over his head, the way David's mouth is kissing away rain from Nando's face, the way he's pressing warmth into him with every inch of his body.

Their hands meet on the metal button of Nando's jeans and David's tongue finds the tangy taste of blood on Nando's full bottom lip and Nando is overwhelmed with it, with David, so he can't help the pleading, soft way he moans. David licks at the blood that's fresh and at his lip that is so raw and they get Nando's jeans off together, pushing and shoving at denim and socks and shoes until he's in his underwear and he's blushing all over his cheeks and shoulders for how exposed he feels, for how his heart is fluttering in his chest from such simple affection, from such genuine love. David shoves the ratty, soaking wet clothes away from their bed and he runs his hands through Nando's hair, taming it down and smoothing it out and he kisses up his face now, kissing him the way he kisses up Iker's inner thighs, the way he eats a hamburger when he's really hungry, the way he drives when he's just gotten paid and the sun is shining and he feels nothing but light and freedom. Nando keeps shoving but it's at David's clothes now, it's at his dirty shirt and his dirt-caked pants and he's negating all of it by the way he wraps his legs around David's waist, fitting his body right up against his own and David does laugh this time, smiling with his whole face as he pulls his shirt over his head, as he moves his hips carefully against Nando's until his pants are down and he's craning down to untie his stubborn boots.

Nando kisses the side of David's face, trying to return some of that warmth he's feeling and he helps with the boots, pushing until they're finally gone and they're wearing those same matching white briefs they always wear, matching only there because Nando is soft and long where David is sinewy and firm, he's pale like milk and the moon and maybe even like Iker while David is sun-kissed from hours of work, from work and work and work. David peels himself away from Fernando to retrieve the other two quilts he'd brought up here, quilts Iker's grandmother had made and David wants to tell Nando that, wants to tell him so many things about the soup and the comic books and the scent in the pillows and the boy he can still taste in his mouth that had given them all of it but he doesn't, he never does. He spreads the blankets over Nando who is curled up on his side, who is quiet now in a way that he rarely is, in a bone tired and hard-beaten way. He watches as David tucks him in until he's warm and then he's peeling the white lid from the container and the smell of tomatoes and pepper fill their noses.

"Vegetable soup," David announces almost proudly, and he lifts his eyes to watch Nando's face, to watch the ravenous glee that takes over his soft boy cheeks and his pink mouth marred by a thick, mean line of red. David hurries to grab the spoon and he gathers a spoonful of soup, his hand shaking unsurely as he curls down toward Nando, his free hand cradled under the spoon as he lowers it toward Nando, their eyes meeting when Nando opens his mouth to take the soup. David watches his lips close over the spoon, watches the rapture in his face as he chews briefly and swallows it all down, the way he looks hungry for more instantly, lips parted, his own baby bird.

They take turns until the soup is nearly gone and their stomachs are full and they're fully warm now, their lips spicy and they're curling into each other much more easily this time, mismatched legs tangling easily and when Nando's burning belly presses into David's, David can't help but press tighter. Nando's mouth finds David's strong jaw and his hands are clutching at David's hair, gripping and smoothing in equal parts. David rubs at Nando's lower back, his fingers tendering over the constellation of beauty marks that are spread there, his palm flat and pressing them even closer together. They rock and rub together, fevered and slow at the same time, aching and raw and exhausted, fire burning and burning and burning between their legs and together, together so tight. Nando has found David's neck and is making his dessert from it, sucking and licking and David's heart feels dangerous in his chest, loud and telling and his hands give him away by pushing down Nando's back and gripping his ass, drawing his hips into his own body and their cocks, their thrumming, needing cocks throb fiercely together and they come nearly at the same time, shaking and panting and David is crushing him, feeling the warmth spread across their lower bellies and he sucks at the skin of Nando's eyelid, the feel of his eyelashes tickling the dip beneath his mouth and it makes his orgasm even stronger.

They quake together, shaking through the remains of their secret and the light from the lantern flickers right along with them, smaller and smaller until it runs out but the rain continues, battering but Nando is safe from it now, he's safe from their father and from the world and that is the only reason David can close his eyes.


End file.
